


So Free Up the Cheaper Seats

by chickenwinginit



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Wrong Number AU, silly fic, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 14:36:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8988031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chickenwinginit/pseuds/chickenwinginit
Summary: Yuuri is happy to leave the night of his defeat behind him, a drunken memory he won't remember forgetting. Imagine his surprise when, on the plane ride home, he gets a text from a stranger who insists they've met before.
(AKA: In which Yuuri drunkenly gives Viktor his phone number that one time at the banquet. In which he promptly forgets about it, though Viktor isn't done with him yet)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Gonna need you to suspend your disbelief for two separate things here: 
> 
> 1.) That one gets cell service on an airplane, and  
> 2.) That 'Vitya' is an even remotely opaque fake name. 
> 
> Probably gonna make this fic multi-chapter. Let me know what you think. Enjoy!

Yuuri boarded the plane hungover.   
  
Suppose it can’t be helped, he thought as he watched the plane take off, the ground receding into specks below him, given just how much he’d wished that night would disappear. The loss. That party. Ridiculous… He couldn’t talk to anyone, didn’t feel like he deserved to— and anyway, what did he have to celebrate? His temples throbbed.   
  
Whatever. Sighing, Yuuri slid his headphones over his ears and deflated in his seat, eyes heavy. Sleep, he decided, would fix this. He was exhausted. If he could just sleep it off… when his flight landed, when the Japan Nationals came, he knew there’d be hell to pay. But for now he could sleep, and for now, exhausted, tormented, that was all he could do.   
  
His phone jumped in his hand. Yuuri hissed.   
  
His whole body ached in protest as he switched on the screen, igniting a terrible brightness in his hand. He grimaced through the throng of pain and searched for the source of the notification. Ah— there. A new text.   
  
_\--Heeey handsome. How’re you doing?;)_   
  
Oh. Wrong number, Yuuri thought deftly.   
  
_\--I’m sorry. Who is it you’re looking for? I think you have the wrong number._   
  
_\--Yuuri?_   
  
He swallowed, cheeks hot suddenly. Who was this person; texting him, calling him handsome? How did they get his number? He tried scrolling further up the conversation to see if they’d exchanged any words previous, hoping that there he’d find a clue, but the text only jumped and held its place.   
  
_\--Who is this?_   
  
_\--Hmm, playing hard to get?;) After the night we shared? Lmao_   
  
Instinctively, Yuuri’s head snapped to the side, checking to see that Celestino was still asleep beside him. He was, chest rising and falling rhythmically, that high whistle of a snore seething from his nose. He let out a breath.   
  
Still, he turned in his seat furtively, with his back to his coach so that he was gazing out the window, so that nobody could see the suggestive text displayed on his screen. He put a hand to his burning face and felt the bewilderment cemented there. What was this? _Who_ was this?   
  
_\--Um… your number doesn’t have a name in my phone._   
  
_\--… You really don’t remember me?_   
  
_\--Well, like I said, I don’t know your name, so…_   
  
The stranger’s replies, instantaneous before this, slowed suddenly. Yuuri couldn’t help but feel disappointed. His interest was piqued— and hey, what kind of night were they talking about?! The sudden adrenaline of the messages had numbed his hangover, but the growing distance between his text and the stranger’s response was dredging it back again. The pain settled over him, dull and echoing.   
  
When his phone chimed again, he nearly dropped it trying to get the text open.   
  
_\--Well, this is an interesting development!_ It read. _So I’m a secret admirer now, then?_   
  
Yuuri gaped.   
  
_\--I’m so confused. What are you talking about?_   
  
_\--Nothing, Yuuri~ We’ll be friends now, right?_   
  
_\--But you haven’t even told me your name._   
  
_\--‘Secret admirer’ doesn’t satisfy you?_   
  
_\--Not really…_   
  
_\--Then call me your lover~!! <3 _   
  
He put a hand to his mouth to silence a baffled chuckle. They’re forward… But who in the world would want that title?! Was someone messing with him?   
  
Yuuri was wide awake now, though the cabin was in a lull around him. It was early, too early— barely seven, and he couldn’t remember, but he was sure he didn’t get much sleep the night before. Not with the way his eyes were so dry and puffy. He sighed, turning from the window to stare around the barren cabin. This all felt too surreal… something like this, the morning after his crushing defeat. If he thought about it, he could remember everything vividly; the chill of the ice, his legs shaking down to the blades. Sad chatter from the crowd and the distant, hollow sound of announcers anguishing. So what was this person doing, sending him texts like that when his heart was so heavy?   
  
_\--Listen, I don’t know the first thing about you!_ He typed back, slowly, trying hard to command some kind of authority. _How can I call a stranger my lover?_   
  
The response came almost immediately:   
  
_\--So you want to know more about me?_   
  
He hesitated.   
  
_\--Well… yes, if we’re going to be talking._   
  
_\--Excellent!!!_   
_\--well, I’m a man, to start with. An attractive one! You’ll be pleased_   
_\--my favorite animals are dogs, when I was a kid my family had 3…_   
_\--oh, I have a lot of followers on instagram!!_   
_\--My favorite color is gold..._   
  
Yuuri scrambled to silence his phone, which had begun chiming near relentlessly. The sound filled the quiet cabin, causing some of the passengers to groan and shift in their seats. An elderly man a few seats behind him squawked, twisting violently in his seat with a hissed “really?!” and Yuuri, stricken, whispered inaudible apologies as he fought his phone towards silent. It was hard to manage, really, the way it was buzzing so much and his hands were shaking—   
  
_\--and I think I’ve had my heart stolen by you, Yuuri._   
  
The texts stopped there. Yuuri stared, dumbfounded. Could this be a fan, a stalker…? Surely nobody sane— he tried to picture what this man, this admirer, might look like, but somehow the reality of it wouldn’t fall into place. He couldn’t put a face to words like ‘handsome’ or ‘lover’; not towards him, at least. Not now.   
  
He still hadn’t been given a name.   
  
_\--All that aside… what am I supposed to call you?_   
  
_\--mmm. Your boyfriend… master?_   
  
Ew.   
  
_\--Be serious!!_   
  
_\--Yuuri, you’re no fun suddenly~~ am I embarrassing you? But I bet you’re cute when you blush._   
_\--Or moan, or scream…_   
  
_\--What! Is! Your! Name!_   
  
_\--I can’t tell you._   
  
_\--… Why not?_   
  
It was only four words, but the stranger’s texts felt so serious, suddenly. Yuuri sobered. What could possibly be the reason for this man’s anonymity? Maybe he was trying to hide his criminal record. Or, could he be in some kind of trouble? It must be lonely, Yuuri thought, to not be able to rely on even your own name. To keep yourself so secret from everything.   
  
_\--Because, Yuuri, I want you to like me for myself, and my name could ruin it. You should know me first as a friend, or your suitor. Not by my name and its worldly attachments._   
  
_\--That sounds… suspicious…_   
  
_\--Shakespeare once said “a rose by any other name would smell as sweet”..._   
  
_\--That was Romeo and Juliet, and they both died at the end._   
  
_\--Won’t you just let me be romantic?! >:( _   
  
Yuuri sighed, the corner of his lips creeping upwards slightly. Maybe he was being too melodramatic about this whole thing. Maybe this stranger was just a nice person who… what? Liked him, cared about him, suddenly?   
  
When he’d woken up this morning, it was in a cold sweat of shame. Yuuri still felt it now, clinging to his back as they sliced through the sky— away, blessedly away from the Grand Prix. Though he knew he was fleeing something he could never escape.   
  
In truth, his loss at the Grand Prix reminded Yuuri that there was something like a Greek tragedy inside of him. He’d always felt like failure was something that he carried: a burden, a pit in his belly. It was a part of his being, so it made sense that he’d packed it up and taken it to Sochi with him— of course he would lose.   
  
Loss, failure; plagues that befell him constantly. He thought of his family, Yuko, Vicchan— a childhood spent in the chill of an empty ice rink. He’d worked so hard: all that time he’d given, all the people he’d pushed away… for what? To disappoint them in the end? His heart lurched and his whole body coiled around the pain. He felt nauseous and his eyes burned, threatening tears.   
  
He couldn’t help it— when he typed his reply to the stranger, it tumbled out like a plea. More than that, it was a lifeline.   
  
\-- _What do you see in me?_ He asked, desperately.   
  
_\--Oh, Yuuri._   
_\--everything_   
_\--I see everything_   
_\--do you really need me to tell you?_   
  
He felt the tears rise at the back of his eyes, pushing forward. His cheeks burned. This was embarrassing. Pathetic.   
  
_\--I just…  
  
_ _\--Shh. It’s okay. I’m starting to understand  
_ _\--I don’t know what I can tell you that you’ll believe, but…  
_ _\--you make me happy.  
_ _\--Happy like nothing has in a long time!  
_ _\--I can’t exactly tell you why, you won’t remember lol,  
_ _\--but you’re important to me.  
_ _\--Beautiful, funny, a great dancer…_

Dancer? So he’d seen Yuuri’s skating?   
  
The stranger went on,   
  
_\--my interest is genuine, and I hope one day I’ll be able to show you. For now just trust me, okay?_   
  
_\--I appreciate that. It just feels strange… a stranger suddenly messaging me, telling me he likes me._   
  
_\--Yuuri, I more than like you. Infatuation is a word._   
_\--Lovestruck is another!!_   
  
_\--Haha, you’re quite zealous, aren’t you?_   
  
_\--Why shouldn’t I be? Yuuri…_   
_\--I plan to seduce you!_   
_\--I’ll make you fall for me, so that I can have you. Be prepared for it_   
_\--don’t give up just yet. Many people out there see your worth, not just me. One day you’ll recognize it_   
_\--and if it really makes you feel better… call me Vitya~_   
  
Vitya… Blushing, Yuuri entered the name in his phone. Finally, no more ominous, seven-digit number on his screen. He sniffled a bit, raised his hand to wipe the tears out from under his eyelids. He found himself… smiling. Somehow, foolishly, he had allowed this stranger’s —Vitya’s— words to touch him. Suppose it can’t be helped, he thought. That weak willpower of his…   
  
_\--Thank you, Vitya… It’s been a rough morning. I think you’ve cheered me up._   
  
_\--Oh? How hungover are you?;)_   
  
Yuuri balked.   
  
_\--UH??? How did you know I was hungover?!_   
  
_\--Hehe… lucky guess, I suppose?_   



End file.
